Martinsburg independent. [volume] (Martinsburg, W. Va.) 1875-1900, 1887-02-19

England legend fitted back TO her
mem ~.
What was itagaing II you thought
of one Won loved, and waited a kiss
towards him or her on a piece OF
thistle down, the fairies would bear
it to the dear one and whisper the
loving thought that was sent with it.
Folly, az, folly, and yet such folly
keeps the heart of humanity young
forever.
Blushing, though none saw her,
nor heard her--saye the fainar, If
they were present--the girl kissed
the tiny seed and hreathed his name
as she waited it southwark, and then,
overing her face with her hands, she
shed just tear or two.
Afser that she went home, a trifle
comforted. glad to have found even
this silly little way Of expressing the
love within hersoul A love so great
and strong and deep that never
would the whole of it be told. and
vet SO innocent and sweet that it
could find relief in a fancy treasured
from childhood. Was it true, then,
that suck love could be doomed to
hopelessness--that such woman
could be forgotten.
In the distant city a young man
is seated at a writing table, his brow
knit as if in deep thought, lines of
care about his eyes and mouth, while
there is look Of somewhat feverish
brilliancy in the former as he raises
them for moment sometimes from
his page.
Not wholly pleasant face seen
thus. There is hardness and q
keenness in the expression that Jars
on the close observer, aad cynical
curve in the lip that tells Of nature
which is fonder of criticising the
weaknesses Of humanity than of iden-
tifying himself with it in brotherly
hopefulness and love.
Look over his manuscript, too for
moment. Very clever it is, no
doubt. Shrewd rs insight IS when it
works without charity; sarcastic as
wit is when it no longer cares to be
tempered byjustice; sharp and clear
" cut in its definitions, as when
knowledge divorces itselffrom truth.
1t is what is called "a ''social article"
that the young man Is writing, but
one Of kind which belle their name.
If humanity were such as shown
there society would be at at end.
He is tired, and he pushes his hair
back from his forehead as though it
ached, and turns to the open window
for moment and let's the evening
air fan his check; Cor the day, which
was so cool and sweet in the coun-
try, has seemed close and airless, in
the smoky city where the writer
dwells.
Then he takes mp his pen again and
turns to bis page, but something
arrests his hand a very simple
thing surely to put stop to such in
cisive sentences. just bit Of this
tie down, that a breath could watt
from the paper in an instant and no
trace be left.
Only the young fellow doesn't
seem disposed to rid himself of it so
summarily; instead, he gazes las il
it possessed ocult power and opened
some new scene to him.
Perhaps it does, for he feels all at
once that something has given the
lie to the words he has written.
He seems to see fair young face
looking at his with panied wonder
ment, and suddenly he judges his
work, not by the critical code ofpop-
ular journalism, but by the ideal
standard of a pure, unsophisticated
woman's soul.
The very remembrance of that
woman, too, has made humanity APP
pear diviner; no longer does it seem